Alex Rider vs The Burn Notice
by Viscy Whiskey Poo
Summary: Alex Rider has been burned. MI6 has officially withdrawn any protection they've given him as an organization and every enemy he's ever made is out for blood.
1. Chapter 1

Okie doke. I love spies. I love Burn Notice. And I love Alex Rider. So here we go. (If any of you guys read my other stories, they're not abandoned, not in the least bit. I just need some... a lot more time to figure out where I want to go with them.)

* * *

Alex Rider noticed everything immediately. The substitute teacher that asked to see him right as he walked into the classroom late. Substitutes didn't care when students were late. That was his first mistake. The amateurish way the man kept checking for the gun hidden within his blazer. The reassuring smile. The man was out of his element. A teacher does not smile when he has to reprimand a student or take time out of his lesson plan. His organization had told him to be wary of this target, he was a kid, but had the skills and reaction time of a fully grown man. Foolishly, he had his guard down thinking the boy would never see it coming in his own school.

He took a few steps back and away from the door, far enough so his classmates wouldn't see anything through the window and right at the security camera blindspot. Alex didn't wait for the man to strike or even to confirm his suspicions, the feel of immediate danger was to strong to just ignore or put off. He attacked immediately, striking at the man's throat. The assassin choked and gasped, his hands grasping his throat… no longer within reach of the gun. Alex followed up with a kick to his gut and grabbed the gun and aimed it towards him as he doubled over in pain. The man dropped to the ground, out cold.

Still reeling from the fact that whoever had sent this man knew where he went to school, Alex tried to think clearly. Should he call the police? Wait for them to get here, then explain… explain what? That he was a teenage spy working for MI6? He had gone through the same thing too many times to expect anyone to believe him.

Looking around for anyone in the hallway that may have seen him and finding nothing, he tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. He'd need it to defend himself, even if he didn't plan on shooting anyone, it _looked _deadly enough. His classmates wouldn't have noticed anything, still raucously rejoicing over not having a teacher. He decided the best plan would be to go to headquarters and find Blunt. Even if the head of MI6 wouldn't present him with any options he'd like, at least he's have an idea of what the hell was going on.

As he ran out the main doors, he wondered who was responsible for this. Scorpia was too careful to send someone this easy to beat. Scorpia's agents did not fail. Perhaps this was a warning to watch his back? None of it made sense.

* * *

He pushed through the doors of the Royal and General Bank and walked straight to the woman in the back, deciding that it would draw the least attention to himself. Did his logic even make sense? He didn't know, he was still doubting his decision to leave his classmates back in school. There could be more assassins, killing every boy until they found him. He should have pulled the fire alarm when he had the chance.

"I need to speak with Alan Blunt." He said to the secretary urgently. This was Miss Treat. There was no way she wouldn't recognize him. He really didn't want to go through the whole song and dance of 'Kid, this is a bank. You must have quite the imagination' again.

"I'm sorry, we don't have an Alan Blunt here," she said honestly. "Are you sure you're not looking for—"

"NO, I am NOT looking for anyone other than Alan Blunt who I know DAMN well works here." He yelled in frustration, not believing his ears.

"Sir, if you don't quiet down, I will be forced to phone the police," she threatened quietly.

Alex leaned on the counter, racking his brain for the code phrase he had been given months ago in case this ever happened again. He hadn't committed it to memory as he had been reassured he would never need to use it.

"Uh… the scorpion is loose in building. You should call an exterminator…?" If that wasn't it, he was screwed. Miss Treat picked up her phone and dialed. "Hello? Alex Rider is here…" She paused and listened, her face betraying nothing. "Okay. I'll let him know," she said, hanging up the phone.

"Well? Can I see him now? This is a matter of life and—" Alex began.

"Alex Rider, you've been burned."

* * *

Here's the thing, I like the idea of this story very much, but I also like it as a one-shot. Alex free of MI6 forever, right? But things can't possibly be that easy. So leave a review telling me what you think and if you'd like to read more.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

First off, thank you all so very, very much for much for all the wonderful and fantastically encouraging reviews. I am ridiculously happy, so I will be continuing this story… I didn't cover enough of the points I wanted to in the first chapter. I will definitely see this through to the end even though it's going to be forever and a day between updates.

Wolfmonster, you could try TV Shack. That site usually has a lot of shows and full seasons. I originally wanted to leave the burn notice thing as a big reveal for the end, but I couldn't think of a better title, so we ended up with an ooky compromise, but I've taken care of it this chapter.

_

* * *

When you're burned, you've got nothing. No cash, no job history, no allies. __You rely on anyone who's still talking to you. __The life you carefully built is completely wiped clean. The least of your problems is being cut off, the worst, you don't want to know.  
_

Alex just stared at her with his mouth open, trying to find something to say. The worst curse words in his vocabulary evaded him. Miss Treat looked up at him tentatively, attempting to hide her sympathy. Protocol was protocol, you did not talk to burned agents, unless you were there to stall them. But this was Alex Rider, how could a 14 year old boy be such a serious threat?

"I'm sorry Alex, you have to go now. Security will be here any minute and it's not to throw you out." Treat informed him quietly. She had decided she trusted him. On her first mission, she had been sent to observe and if necessary, protect Alex while he was at school. He was just a normal kid and he had morals. The very same morals that drove him to help MI6 so many times would never allow him to betray them and right now, he needed her help even though it went against everything she had been taught in her years of training. If their enemies had learned anything, it was that you shouldn't underestimate a teenage boy, especially not this one.

It could have been so simple if he had just become an unreliable asset, he could get his life back, but with MI6 no longer able to trust him, they would want to interrogate him to find out the intel he was leaking. This was protocol. This was how MI6 functioned, they took you for everything you were worth and you were worth everything you knew, and they threw you to the dogs when they were done. That is, if you were still alive at that point. Even Alan Blunt wouldn't be able to help Alex, despite his high clearance level. He answered to his superiors, the leaders of the country. It didn't help that both he and Mrs. Jones would never be able to take care of the mountain of paperwork they'd need to bypass in order to "officially" find him. And if they could, would they choose to? As far as they were concerned, he had outlived his usefulness.

"It is imperative that you leave town. I don't know if you know this, but MI6 has been protecting you all along, keeping at bay all the enemies you made—"

"You people were the reason I made those enemies in the first place!" Alex cut in angrily. His life was falling apart all over again, like it did every time he came back from a mission and distanced himself even further from his friends, like it did every time he found out more about the secrets everyone kept from him.

"Alex, listen to me. Your friends are not safe here because YOU are not safe here…" She never got the chance to finish. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw undercover security moving in, covertly reaching for their hidden guns and for a moment he thought she was just there to stall him until they arrived, but that wasn't it. They were there the entire time and she was stalling _them!_

Before they could get to him, the sprinklers went off and a loud alarm blared. Alex didn't need another hint, he bolted out the door, pushing past confused customers trying to exit.


	3. Chapter 3

Wow, I have no idea how long it's been since my last update, but I've been ridiculously busy. Sorry this is such a shorty, but it's better than nothing at all, right?

* * *

He couldn't even decide what to feel. Anger? After a year of missions, they had abandoned him and left him for dead with most of the world's deadliest organizations after him. Fear? Everyone he knew or cared about would be in danger, even people he'd been barely acquainted with. Uncertainty? Was this what he wanted? He was finally rid of MI6, but his life was destroyed. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed them to survive. They were a powerful organization and that alone had provided him with protection. MI6 was a formidable foe, it kept the likes of small gangs from extracting their vengenance.

Finally he took a moment just to sit and rest and take everything in. For the first time, he realized exactly what it meant to be alone. Sure, MI6 had forsaken him back when he had decided to take on Damien Cray, but there was always Jack. She never approved of his actions, but she supported him and he could always count on her. And now, going to her meant putting her in danger if leaving her alone wasn't danger enough. It was the same with Tom and Sabina, civilians that wouldn't be able to defend themselves when the wrong people came knocking on their doorstep. But what could he do for them when he could barely protect himself?

Rushed and random thoughts raced through his head as he darted through back alleys and threaded through parks, feeling an utter fool. He wasn't a criminal, he shouldn't have to run from the cameras, yet he hadn't even a destination. He had so many questions, some rhetorical, some genuine. When you're a spy, knowledge is your greatest weapon. There's a reason you work "in intelligence" because when it all comes down to it, that's the sum of your occupation. Running from enemy fire and hand to hand combat is just something that comes with the territory.

But when you have no intel to work with period, you're left feeling a little frustrated. Alex may have been one of MI6's most affective agents, but he's never been left alone on the side of the street with no mission dossier, nothing to start with, no one to go after, not even a lead to follow. All he knows is that he has to run, but where? And how far? Who can he trust? Who can he even find? It was certainly nice to have friends like Tom and Jack who could understand the predicament he was in, but when it all came down to it, they would be more of a hindrance than a help.

Still, first things first, he had to make sure his friends were safe.

A call from a payphone on a secluded street corner of the park to his home. The camera there had been long out of order and the stiffs in office never did take it upon themselves to get it answered on the third ring, that was fifteen seconds he thought his heart would explode from the pounding.

"Hello?" Jack said.

"Jack, it's Alex," he said, before pausing just briefly to wait for the code. If she asked him about tomatoes in the salad, she was in danger. Just a second more… he breathed an almost palpable sigh of relief when she said nothing.

"Jack, I need you to go back to America right now. Just pack clothes and money. Leave your phone. Try blend in wherever you are. Don't call for a taxi, take the car, then the Underground. You'll be safest once you get to the airport. Please try to stay in sight of the cameras," Alex rattled off the instructions as they came to him. He wondered if he was rambling. for him, this was all instinctual and he could only hope it made sense to her. He trusts she's seen her share of spy movies to understand.

"Alex, you're ardly making sense."

"JUST DO IT. Please."

"Okay, fine," Jack stammered, struggling to find more words, a response that could somehow match the urgency in his tone. "But what the hell is going on? Where are you?"

"I'm at the northeast corner of Hyde Park, I probably won't be here much longer, I don't know where I'm going next," he confessed. He might as well tell her. He didn't want to imagine it, but if she were captured on her way, at least she'd know enough to keep herself alive. "I've been burned, it's complicated. I… I can't even understand, but right now, everyone I know is in danger… I'll call you once you've landed," he said before hanging up, not waiting for her to ask how he'd know how to reach her.

Jack prudently obeyed his cryptic instructions and ran straight to the back of the hall closet. Pushing aside the pile of cleaning supplies, she saw the three duffel bags. One for her, one for Alex and one that had been for Ian. Ian had insisted that they would need these in case of emergency, such as an earthquake, he explained as if it made all the sense in the world, yet the items he had instructed her to pack would do them almost no good during the aftermath of a disaster.

She walked out of the house with the duffel over one shoulder, still remembering to lock the door. Jack liked to believe she would be coming back. It just wouldn't do to leave the door hanging open, just inviting some chavs to take what they wanted.

Throwing the bag carelessly into the passenger seat as she stepped in the car beside it, she started the car and started down the street, not noticing the dark blue convertible following a few cars behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

So it's a shorty, but an update is better than none at all, right? And there is more to the story than Alex running for his life in every chapter...

* * *

Mrs. Jones walked quietly down the carpeted hallway, the sound of her low heel muffled by the plush. Yet Alan Blunt hadn't even spared a glance upwards when she walked in to the room and continued looking quietly through the innocuous manila folder on his desk. Mrs. Jones, of course, thought nothing of it. It was their everyday, their interaction somber, even a little chilly. They never found the need to exchange pleasantries.

But today of all days, Mrs. Jones found it difficult to continue their professionally amicable silence as if everything were all right and it was only the fate of the world they held in their identical stamped manila folders. Today, it had to do with Alex Rider. A teenage boy who had proven himself to be their most valuable asset, capable of taking down entire crime syndicates, organizations that touted espionage as their middle name and everything in between.

There was no doubt in her mind that Alex had the abilities and specialized skill set to do everything the small file had accused him of. However, she didn't believe for a moment that he was capable of it.

"I think you know why I'm here."

"Alex Rider," Alan Blunt replied evenly. Of course, that's what brought her to his office day when they did not have a meeting scheduled on this dreary London day.

"You burned a perfectly innocent agent and you know it!" she found herself raising her voice against her superior and realizing she didn't care. It hit her a little more deeply every time they sent him away on another mission and told him that he might lose his life, but of course it was for queen and country. If she hadn't approved then, she certainly wasn't going to stand idly by while this continued.

"In this folder, and I've no doubt you read it already, is irrefutable evidence that Alex Rider has not only actively committed treason against our country by selling secrets from this very building to Scorpia, but he has attempted to carry out an assassination on the Prime Minister.

"I know what's in the file, and consider me overemotional when it comes to Rider, but you know as well as I that he isn't guilty of a single one of those 27 charges against him."

Truth be told, Alan Blunt _did _know as well as she did. He couldn't admit it though, at least not yet. Alex will have been burned and his life ruined for nothing if Blunt couldn't see this through. A very small part of him hoped that Rider would be able to survive long enough in a world where everyone was his enemy.

Even MI6.

* * *

Review, my loves! They inspire me to write (or at least guilt me into it) and feel free to drop ideas in the comments. Hell, I didn't even think about this having anything to do with the show Burn Notice until someone mentioned it and now I'm considering bringing Michael Weston into this, so you never know!


	5. Chapter 5

The last time I updated, Scorpia Rising hadn't come out yet, so let's say this takes place in a universe where that doesn't happen. I'm also sorry that it actually took that long to update, but every now and then I get an email telling me that another person put the story on alert and that makes me so happy. Therefore, I will definitely be finishing the story though it's just gonna take a while.

* * *

Jack had made it perfectly clear to Alex many times that she didn't approve of his lifestyle, but for better or worse, she always watched out for him. After having known him for most of his life, she understood that he needed the support of a friend more than any fancy gadget MI6 could offer him. She knew him better than anyone else in the world and because of that, the young woman thought she had seen and heard it all when it came to his life.

But that phone call from Alex was perhaps the most terrifying thing she'd ever experienced. None of the precious little Alex had told her in the past about his missions struck fear in her heart life his voice over that phone. Hollow and confused, but most of all, _afraid._

And in the midst of all her worrying, Jack laughed.

She laughed at her fourteen year old charge trying to reassure _her_ that things would work out, but it there was no humor in her heart. Her thoughts wandered to how his life had gotten so out of hand, and how five years ago, she figured the worst she wouldn't be able to protect him from was a bully he couldn't fight or a girl breaking his heart. The young woman had also seen enough action movies in her lifetime to know that she was being followed by the blue car behind her.

What she would do next would go against everything those movies—not to mention what her copy of _Cosmopolitan_ advised about avoiding would-be attackers— had ever taught her. The first thing she did was panic. The second? Formulate a plan. She would look back on it a few hours later and realize it was a horrible plan, mostly because she had allowed herself to panic before deciding that confronting her pursuer with a crowbar would be the most rational thing to do in the situation.

Jack quickly turned on her emergency lights and gradually pulled over on the side of the empty highway. She watched as several cars sped by, unfazed by her distress. As she suspected, the blue car that had consistently trailed four cars behind her followed suit.

In the rearview mirror, Jack saw the driver exit the car. Her mind worked furiously, trying to convince her that she could take this man. He didn't seem particularly large or well muscled, though it was hard to tell through his coat. She took deep breath and opened her own door.

"Sir, do you think you can help me take a look at my car? I'm not sure, but I think I could use a jump…" Jack called to him, sticking her head out and looking towards him with a flustered expression.

"Of course, miss," he responded amiably enough as he walked towards her, with an accent not quite English. "Whatever it is, I'm sure we'll get you on your way."

Jack's gut was screaming that this was exactly the vague response an attacker would give and her hand tightened around the crowbar once he reached her. She figured the same thing was going through his head, he probably didn't want to show his hand until he got close enough to grab her.

Exiting the vehicle in what could only be described as a combination of jumping and falling, she struck out in the general direction of the man's head with all the strength she could muster, deciding that his average stature would even the odds somewhat.

It didn't.

Without so much as blinking, he caught her weapon with one hand and looked more annoyed than anything else. He stood there and watched her trying to pry her weapon lose for a few seconds before finally wrenching it out of her out of her hands and tossing it behind the guardrail, out of reach.

Her reflexes surprising even herself, Jack jumped on the hood of her car and held her hands up in what she only hoped was a threatening manner.

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you! I learned martial arts in a monastery where they made me shave my head!" Just hearing the words come out of her mouth made her want to give up right there.

Instead of attacking her, the man finally laughed, something that almost never happened to a man of his disposition.

"Are you done yet? I'll admit that I'm very amused by all this, but I don't have all day. In fact, I really need to be on my way."

"I will not make it easy for you to kill me!"

"I'm not—" he was interrupted by the sound of several black SUVs racing down the road, screeching to a halt in front of both their cars, efficiently creating a roadblock. The man cursed under his breath, yet Jack observed that he seemed to counting… whether it was the cars, the number of men, or even the seconds as they ticked by, she wasn't sure. Yet, he seemed completely unfazed.

The next two minutes went by at lightning speed, even Jack found it difficult to keep up as the man pulled out two guns from his waistband that she didn't even realize he was carrying. With incredibly precise aim, he hit the first five people while their own machine guns seemed to miss him completely. Then, instead of taking cover behind his car, he simply threw the two hand guns through the window and reached in to pull out a machine gun of his own, easily dispatching anyone that was still standing. There was neither arrogance nor satisfaction in his facial expression as he carried out his work.

When he was done, he walked back over to Jack, still petrified and perched on her car from earlier.

"Have you been hit?"

"No… not that it's any of your business!" she snapped.

"I don't have the patience for this," he said, reaching up and wrapping his free arm around her waist and dragging her back over to his car. The stranger threw his weapon in the back seat and deposited her in the passenger seat.

At this point, Jack felt too stunned to argue or even fight him off anymore. He may not have pulled a gun on her during their confrontation, but seeing what he did to a team of twelve mean made her realize she didn't want to test him.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I know Alex Rider."

"A lot of people know Alex Rider, most of them are very unsavory characters."

"I will be honest with you, I am one of those unsavory characters you speak of."

"Oh God, you're going to kill me… I'm going to die," Jack despaired.

"I assure you, your life is safe in my hands. Consider Alex and I allies. My name is Yassen Gregorivich."


End file.
